Title: Floating
Ash
Author:
IrishDachsie
Pairing:
Grissom/Sara
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not
mine
A/N: This
week’s response to the Improv fic challenge.
“So, how much wood would a
woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?” Brass asked.
Grissom peered over the rim
of his glasses and stared at the Detective.
“Very good Jim…can you say ‘rubber baby buggy bumpers’ too?”
“Funny…” Brass stepped into this dim office and leaned
against the wall. “Seriously though…we
have a DB for you.”
Grissom’s eyes widened as he
sat straight in his chair. “Okay. Sara and I will take it…the others are
busy.” He pushed his chair back and stood
up, curiously looking at Brass. “Don’t
tell me that it’s someone dressed up as a woodchuck.”
Brass chuckled and shook his
head. “No. Male, 28, Woodrow Asher…he’s a floater.”
Grissom sighed as he picked
up the
“He’s boxed in…”
Grissom stepped into the
hall and turned around to look at Jim.
“Boxed in?”
Brass motioned for Grissom
to follow him as he walked down the hall towards the break room. “Yeah…logs all around him. Like someone…chucked them in…”
Grissom shook his head in
slight amusement. “Hence the woodchuck
reference?”
The detective came to a stop
in front of the break room and shrugged his shoulders. “What?
Are you the only one around here allowed to make obscure comments?”
Grissom stuck his head into
the doorway and smiled at the brunette sitting on the couch, flipping through
the latest forensic journal. “Hey…”
Sara looked up, returning
his smile with a bright one of her own.
“What’s up?”
“DB…the pond at Blue
Diamond. Thought you might be interested
in coming with me.”
She tossed the journal onto
the table as she stood. “Can I drive?”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Grissom turned his head to
look into the backseat at Jim as Sara quickly navigated the SUV through the
night traffic. His brow furrowed when he
noticed his friend’s coloring.
“Are you okay?”
Jim started to nod, then
shook his head quickly. “Does your girlfriend
have to weave in and out of traffic at mach four?”
Grissom blushed lightly and
glanced at Sara. “Care to slow down a
little?”
“Griss…with traffic the way
it is tonight, it’s going to take us at least 28 minutes to get there.”
Jim moaned lightly and
rested his forehead against the cool glass of the window. “He’ll still be dead when we get there,
Sara…”
Sara inhaled sharply and let
up on the gas pedal. Glancing into the
rearview mirror, she caught Brass’ eye.
“I didn’t know you get carsick…”
Brass closed his eyes and
smiled weakly. “Only when I’m in the
backseat of a car driven by a Mario wannabe…”
Sara accelerated quickly to
slip through the yellow light. “Mario?”
Grissom reached across the
console and placed his hand on Sara’s thigh.
“Andretti. Slow down, honey.”
“Wuss…” Sara muttered her breath as she decelerated a
bit more. “Okay, Brass…keep your mind
off of it. Tell me what we’re going to
see…”
“Floater. Surrounded by logs.”
“Logs?”
Brass leaned his head back
against the seat and took a deep breath.
“Yeah. Looks like someone has
thrown in a bunch of logs after the body was dumped.”
“How much wood would a
woodchuck chuck…”
Grissom’s head snapped
towards Sara as Brass chuckled quietly in the backseat. Sara raised an eyebrow at Grissom as she
stopped for a red light.
“What?”
Grissom shook his head
quickly and smiled. “Nothing…”
Sara studied him for a
moment, turning her eyes back to the road when the light turned green. “Our vic have a name?”
“Woodrow Asher…”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“As funny as you may think
it is…no, I can assure you that I’m not kidding, Sara.”
“Griss, think about
it.” She glanced at him quickly and
smiled. “Woodrow Asher. Woody Asher.
Ash…ash tree.”
A weak voice drifted from
the back. “Woody Woodchuck…”
Laughter filled the spacious
confines of the Denali as Grissom’s eyes darted between Sara and Jim. “Should I be worried that you’re finding
humor in a man’s death?”
Sara rolled her eyes. “As if you never have. Besides…it’s not his death we find humorous.”
Brass groaned as Sara took a
sharp turn and slammed on the brakes to avoid rear-ending the Mercedes stopped
in the middle of the road. “See? That’s what happens when you drive too fast…”
“Why is it that most people
can’t find the energy to talk when they’re sick…but you can?”
Brass shrugged his shoulders
and chuckled. “Lucky, I guess…”
“Lucky for who?”
Grissom sighed lightly. “Lucky for you that you weren’t going any
faster…”
“If you were wearing your seatbelt
like you should, maybe you wouldn’t worry about it as much…”
“I’m not worried about…”
“HEY!”
Sara and Grissom both turned
around to look at Brass, briefly wondering where he had found the energy to
actually yell. Taking a deep breath, he
reached for a bottle of water and took a small sip.
“I’m already sick,
guys. I really don’t feel like listening
to you two argue over seatbelts. Okay?”
Sara turned her focus back
on Grissom and stared at him pointedly.
Opening the glove compartment, Grissom took out a small white
package. As he squeezed it, he felt the
coolness radiate onto his hands. He
handed the pack to his sick friend and smiled lightly.
“Here, this might help you
some…”
Turning back in his seat, Grissom
reached for the seatbelt and firmly clicked the buckle into place. He offered Sara a small wink as he replaced
his hand on her thigh. Sara grinned a
silent ‘thank you’ and placed her hand on top of his.
Brass shook his head in mild
amusement as he lifted the cool pouch that Grissom had given him. He winced as he put the ice pack against his
head.
~ End